Tender
by Girl-chama
Summary: A glance at the idealistic and intimate.


The spray was still rebounding to her face when she reached for the tap to end the flow of water. She sat on the warmed wooden stool while grabbing for her scentless shampoo. Her fingers were trembling of their own volition in the cold. The tile beneath her feet felt like ice.

The shampoo was white and creamy looking and lost shape quickly in the palm of her hand before she applied it to her pink hair. The foamy residue that washed away was a rusty brown color and she held her breath, her lips closed tightly as the grime washed down. In her periphery it floated across the tile floor to a small grated drain in the center. The foam remained while the dirty water washed away.

Conditioner set, she reached for the soap even as the sound of the ofuro door opened. Calmly she glanced over her shoulder and mild curiosity was replaced with grounded affection.

"Welcome back," she offered and turned back to the tiled wall, still seated on the stumpy seat. With her foot she reached for the only other seat and pulled it toward her. Sasuke took the seat and Sakura took a moment to clinically observe his thigh. There were a few dark welts and bruises that caused her to grimace. She would have a look at the rest of him later.

"Want me to-" she began, but before the question was finished, he had turned to the corner, offering his bare back to her. She smiled tenderly, though he could not see the gesture, and finished her former journey for the soap.

Her hands were chilled now in the frigid bathroom and she took a moment to work bar into a frothy lather before applying it to his back. Her hands were strong as she lathed them over the pale expanse of his shoulders and spine, not at all shy about running the digits lower. More time was given to his neck where his clothing had not fully protected him from a splatter of fluids and what, she supposed, looked liked human remains.

The water that rinsed from his back was similar to what she had seen from her own head only minutes earlier, but she wasn't concerned. His back was washing clean under her ministrations. Most of the blood on him was not his, and only fine scratches here and there persisted after the scrub.

When his back was clean once more, its familiar pale, she leaned forward and placed her soft lips against his shoulders in twin gentle kisses. His back slumped slightly at the actions, signs of relaxing. Instead of giving him a smile he would not see, she turned and laid her cheek against his spine, nuzzling him softly, pausing a moment to allow him to feel the warmth there.

Wordlessly, she lifted her head and turned away from him, the scraping sound of wood on the tile being his cue. He turned with her, she knew without seeing, and breaths later she felt his hands mimicking her earlier motions.

"So the borders are safe, I take it?" she asked lowly, a combination of weariness and tribute to his dutiful working on her back. A squishy sponge alighted on her left shoulder, her favorite one, and began to gently exfoliate.

"Yeah," he answered. Sakura tucked her head forward onto her knees, willing away the cold and further exposing her back to him.

This was one of their favorite shared rituals, especially in the peak of winter. For her, she liked the time spent with him, the bonding she felt as a result of being so intimate. For him, she knew, he appreciated being able to touch and be touched in this private manner. There was something traditional in it that appealed to him that she would otherwise take for granted.

They tended to the rest of their bodies separately before taking to the bath together. Sasuke first lowered himself into the burning water without much regard for easing into it. Sakura took another moment to regard her husband's body. The opposite thigh was clear, but the matching arm showed some of the similar bruising. She would take care of it before bed.

Once he was settled, she lowered herself like a cat would into the hot water. Her skin protested the heat, it was too much, but her mind overcame and she finished taking her seat by leaning backward into his chest. His arms spread wide enough on the edge of the tub to give her resting access and for a few minutes they mirrored one another in posture and stance.

She sighed and began to chat calmly about her work at the hospital during his absence. He responded to each of her questions and put in a few words during her pauses, but remained mostly silent. At one point he leaned forward and kissed the juncture of her shoulder and neck. A grin came to her face unbidden.

Reaching into the water she grabbed his foot and gave it a tug. Sasuke bent his leg obligingly as Sakura pulled the limb into her lap. Her fingers began to work at the hard muscles their. He groaned and her grin widened, feeling the familiar, coarse black hair depart from the nape of her neck as his head rolled backwards.

"Thank you," he murmured to the ceiling.

"No problem," she responded, and she meant it with all of her heart.

They are well over a decade past betrayal and years more into acceptance. She has always loved Sasuke, though its form and degree have ebbed and flowed over the years. She gives him her time, herself. He has come to love her. To make her sure of it, he gives his words, those things she needs.


End file.
